


marjolet

by goldearring (leoandsnake)



Series: games [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Drug Use, Fingerfucking, Hotel Sex, M/M, Marijuana, Oral Sex, POV Louis, Polyamory, Porn Watching, Post-Zayn One Direction, Rough Sex, Spanking, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Liam, Versatile Zayn, Viagra, minor daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-21 13:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7389427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoandsnake/pseuds/goldearring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Zayn is sucking Louis off when Louis murmurs to him, “I want you and Liam to double team me.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	marjolet

Zayn is sucking Louis off when Louis murmurs to him, “I want you and Liam to double team me.”

He’s flicking his tongue over the head of Louis’ cock and he pauses, knitting his brow. He’s beautifully backlit from the large window in the middle of his bedroom that overlooks London below. His dark hair is set off with a halo from the setting sun, and his handsome face is in shadow. Louis loves watching him. Zayn sucks cock with a flattering laser focus that makes you feel as if there's nothing in the world that tastes better than your penis.

“Haven’t we already?” Zayn says quietly. His voice is low with arousal, and he’s quite hard against Louis’ thigh. Louis has been making him wait.

“Not like we’ve done before,” Louis says, drawing the words out playfully, a sly grin making its way across his face. “I’d like you both inside me at once.”

Zayn’s eyes grow round.

“Jesus,” he says, running his tattooed hand over Louis’ thigh and very lightly up his cock. Louis shudders and gasps softly. “Is that possible?”

“Aye,” Louis affirms. “Hurry up down there, I want to show you a video.”

Zayn finishes sucking him off fast and sloppy, taking him extra deep so he’ll come faster. When Louis has, gripping the sheets and sighing, Zayn swallows his come like a pro and climbs off of him to go get his laptop. He tosses it onto the bed and cocks an eyebrow.

“God, you’re fuckin’ eager,” Louis says, laughing.

“I wanna see,” Zayn murmurs, getting back onto the bed and crawling between his legs. He puts a hand on Louis’ chest and pushes him back against the bed. “And I wanna get off.”

“You’ll get off,” Louis says, flapping a hand at him. “Alright, check this out, then.”

He pulls up the video, which he had just jerked off to the other day, and sets the laptop on the bed facing them. Zayn leans over him, rapt, although with his right hand he’s teasing a few lubed up fingers over Louis’ arsehole.

“Pay attention,” Louis instructs him.

“I am!”

The video depicts three men in a hotel bed; it’s the sort of amateur, gritty shit that Louis is really into. The bottom man is lying on the bed, with the man in the middle riding him cowgirl, and the other man is on his knees astride the bottom man, sliding into the middle bloke from behind.

Louis was obsessed with this configuration when he first saw it. He had to set his phone down and go off to finger himself, which he never does unless he’s getting some later that day. Something about the idea of both of his boys inside him at once won’t leave him. It’s stuck to the inside of his skull like bubblegum and clings there, gooey and insistent.

Zayn watches the video, mouth open, transfixed. He begins to finger Louis. Zayn’s good at that, he knows right where his prostate is.

“Good?” Louis says to him breathily, watching his face.

“Oh yeah,” Zayn says, smirking. “That’d be fantastic. Liam on the bottom, right?”

“Exactly.”

“We’d have to talk ‘im into it,” Zayn says, still staring at the video as he shoves three fingers into Louis and moves them quickly back and forth. Louis gasps a little at the pain of the stretch, but it quickly subsides. He wraps an arm around Zayn’s shoulders. “‘E’s like to go nun on us.”

“He’ll want it,” Louis says, his voice sultry. “I know him. He’ll say, _oh, it’s so barbaric, nooo,_ but then he’ll realize ‘e can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

“Can you fit us both?” Zayn says, kissing him briefly as he pushes his cock into Louis. Louis spreads his legs further apart and Zayn begins to lazily thrust into him. They’re pretty high, and it feels quite nice.

“I reckon,” Louis says, gazing at him. “You got a hand in me once, remember?”

“Yeah, only ‘cos it was an accident,” Zayn says, laughing, his voice strained with the effort of fucking into Louis. He hits Louis at a particularly good angle and Louis moans, trying to get him to do it again. “You weren’t expectin’ it, so you didn’t tense up. But this...”

“I’ll get poppers and xannies. Or poppers and wine, or summat.”

“That would be so hot if you could,” Zayn says, glancing over at the video, which is muted but still running. “Fuck… this’s a good one.”

“Right?”

“God, Louis,” Zayn groans, leaning down over him so they’re chest to chest, and fucking into him harder. Louis closes his eyes in pleasure.

 

/

 

“That’s so, like, triple X!” Liam exclaims, feeling dizzied by the very prospect.

Louis and Zayn exchange an amused look.

“I _told_ you,” Louis crows.

Zayn nods, laughing quietly, and he looks at Liam with his eyes flashing in fondness. He slides an arm around Louis’ slim waist, stroking his hand over the outside of his thigh.

They’re all in Liam’s garage, his two sharp-eyed little troublemakers watching him and sharing a joint as he tinkers around refurbishing a vintage Cadillac he’s just bought. He wipes off his dirty hands on a rag and sighs, looking off into middle space and thinking.

He can't deny he's enticed by the thought of them both fucking Louis at once. He thinks of how helpless and overwhelmed Louis would be, the sounds he would make. He thinks about his cock sliding back and forth against Zayn’s, about grabbing Zayn’s arse as he fucks Louis. Heat rises in his cheeks.

Liam glances up at them. Louis is grinning like a maniac, his eyes shining.

“Louis…” he mutters, embarrassed.

Zayn snorts.

Louis comes toward him, walking that sway-hipped walk of his, reeking of pot, cigarettes and Tom Ford cologne, but with that sweet Louis-y smell underneath it all. He sits his round arse down on Liam’s lap, and Liam wraps his hands around Louis’ waist out of habit.

“Leeyum,” Zayn pleads throatily, as Louis nuzzles him.

Liam sighs in resignation. Louis moans in his ear, in a surprisingly convincing way. Liam’s heart jumps.

“Stop,” Liam admonishes him, pinching him on the side.

Louis moans again, deeper and higher and whinier. Liam’s cock twitches with interest. Zayn stares at them, eyes dark, biting his lip. He half looks as if he’s about to whip it out where he stands. Liam wouldn't be opposed if he did; Zayn looks especially gorgeous and scruffy today.

“Think about it,” Louis murmurs in his ear.

“I am,” Liam says, a bit helplessly. “That’s the problem.”

Louis chuckles low in his throat and kisses him.

 

/

 

They rent out the presidential suite of an exclusive hotel in London and plan to have Paddy sneak them in through a side entrance. Louis is sure he probably thinks they’re holing up for a days-long coke bender, or something, but Paddy doesn't ask.

He spends the entire morning getting ready, waking up and fingering himself in the shower while he jerks off, bleary-eyed and with a dry morning mouth. He doesn’t eat but drinks quite a lot of tea, then has a glass of wine and stumbles back in the bathroom to piss. Zayn calls, then, sleepy-voiced from waking and baking.

“I’m on my way,” he says. “Where’s Liam?”

“Liam probably got there three hours ago and’s havin’ some sort of existential crisis in the bar,” Louis says, laughing. “Nah, he texted me, ‘e’s gettin’ ready.”

“Are _you_ gettin’ ready?” Zayn murmurs, his voice velvety.

“Fingered myself a bit,” Louis says, arousal clenching in his stomach. He runs his fingers along the shaft of his cock as he holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

“Nice.”

“Can’t wait for you to finger me,” Louis breathes. “Love your fingers.”

Zayn groans. “Stop, ‘m drivin’...”

“Pull over and jerk off.”

“No, I want to save it all for you.”

“Yeah?” Louis murmurs, turned on, biting his lip. “Want to fill me full of come? Wanna lick your own come out of my arse?”

“Stop,” Zayn warns him. “I’ll hang up. I’m gonna crash the fuckin’ car... There’s a fun headline.”

“R&B singer found dead Monday after masturbating his car off a bridge…”

Zayn laughs. 

 

/

 

Once they're in the room, Louis opens a bottle of Merlot that’s three times as old as he is.

Liam is nervous and fidgety, pacing around the room and fiddling with his watch. Zayn, in comparison, is quite relaxed. He dims the lights and pulls the curtains mostly shut, lights a few candles and puts some soft, sensual music by a female artist on.

“Aww,” Louis calls to him, tipsy, sloshing his wine around in its glass. “I’m not gonna get gangbanged to your hit single Pillowtalk?”

Zayn snorts in a way that indicates he actually doesn’t find this very funny.

“We aren’t _gangbanging_ you,” Liam mutters, from where he’s sitting on the bed with his hands clasped.

“No, you've already done that,” Louis purrs. He feels heady and horny, and gets up. “This is just straight DP.”

Liam makes a displeased face at his phraseology.

“You two make out,” Louis commands.

Zayn gets up, comes over to Liam and slides onto his lap to snog him. Liam reciprocates happily, sucking at his full bottom lip, his hands going to Zayn’s waist.

Louis keeps an eye on them, rubbing at his stiffening cock through his pants as he goes over to his jacket and retrieves a popper, then snorts it. He comes closer to Liam and Zayn, who are snogging a little more aggressively now, getting handsy and shoving their tongues into each other’s mouths.

Louis feels the effects of the poppers and steadies himself against the head rush. His cock stiffens even more.

He dumps a handful of poppers on the bed. This gets Liam’s attention, and he pulls back from Zayn and looks at Louis, his face and lips flushed and his eyes dark and wide.

“Are we doing this?” he says.

“Anyone want some wine?” Louis says, glancing between them. “So you don’t come as fast?”

Zayn nods. He gets up and pours what’s left into a glass, swigs half of it and hands the rest to Liam.

Liam looks a bit apprehensive. Louis comes over to him and takes Zayn’s place on his lap. Liam’s hand goes to the side of his face, and then slides over Louis’ neck until he’s got a hand lightly around his throat with his middle finger grazing the top of his spine. Louis knows that because it’s Liam, he doesn’t mean much by it, but there’s something deeply arousing about Liam taking him by the throat in this context.

“It won’t be too much for you?” Liam whispers, staring worriedly into his eyes.

Louis kisses him. “No,” he says, smiling. “Have a popper, love.”

Liam keeps studying him. Louis reaches behind him on the bed and uncaps one, then takes a snort of it and hands it to Liam.

The headiness hits him even harder, this time, and Louis experiences a great welling desire to be touched, to be fucked and split open and caressed by male hands.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs. His voice sounds different in his own ears.

Zayn appears again, like a summoned ghost. He comes up behind Louis and presses his front to Louis’ back, his cock hard against the curve of Louis’ arse. He kisses the back of Louis’ neck, sliding his hands over his hips and waist.

“Fuck me,” Louis says, breathy. “Both of you. Go on, then.”

Liam lies back and begins to strip with precision, tossing his shirt and trousers off. His belt hits an end table with a hard clink that jars Louis. He’s on edge, now, with a bit of performance anxiety, wanting desperately for this to not only happen but to go off without a hitch so that Liam will continue being a game and cooperative player in what goes on between the three of them. Liam ballasts them and holds them together; Louis needs desperately for him to be on board.

He makes eye contact with Liam and smiles. Liam smiles back, his quiff mussed as he rubs the back of his head against the bed. They both watch as Zayn strips in that languorous, pretty-girl way of his, always like he’s doing it for a camera.

Louis is beginning to feel that familiar needy ache inside of him, the need to be filled by a cock. He's been stripping as well, and he tosses the last item -- an Adidas sock -- aside, then straddles Liam.

“Liam,” Zayn says, and then from behind Louis he passes something to him. Louis squints at Liam’s hand. In it lies half of a little blue pill.

“Don’t tell me you lot need Viagra to fuck me,” Louis jokes, though he knows why they’re taking it and feels a sharp swell of arousal in him at knowing they’ll be able to go harder and longer.

“Don’t know about Liam, but that much pressure on, I’m like to come in about ten seconds without it,” Zayn says, and laughs.

Liam washes down his half of the pill with wine and nods emphatically. “I’d give myself about five, honestly.”

His hands go to Louis’ hips, and he squeezes him, his touch a bit possessive. They gaze at each other; Louis is dazed from what he’s consumed and his mind is stuck like a record skipping on two words, _fuck me fuck me fuck me_. He rolls his hips, and Liam makes a soft noise.

They settle further up on the bed, so there’s plenty of room for Zayn join them. He comes around to the side of the bed, slim-hipped and slinky. His dark hair falls in his eyes as he takes a snort of one of the poppers, and then hands a squeeze tube of lube to Liam. Louis is aroused by their every interaction. Everything they do reminds him that they’re both about to be crammed inside of him.

Liam takes it, nodding, and then looks up at Louis with a curious, searching expression. Louis spreads his legs a little wider.

“Who’s fingerin’ ‘im?” Zayn murmurs to Liam, sniffing and swiping at his nose. “You or me?... Jesus, these work fast, don’t they?”

“ _Someone_ finger me,” Louis bursts out, frustrated.

“Sorry, Tommo,” says Liam, and he complies immediately, easily pushing a few slick fingers into him. Louis lets out a soft moan.

“Dirty talk,” he begs.

Liam glances to Zayn, who’s better at that. Zayn smiles. He comes around behind them, finally, settling over top of Liam’s thighs and Louis’ ankles, and to Louis’ shock he pushes a few lubed fingers in alongside Liam’s.

“Hi, babe,” Zayn murmurs in his ear, and Louis makes a choked noise. He’s utterly overwhelmed with sensation. His head is pounding with arousal and blood is rushing furiously to his cock.

He opens his eyes oh-so slightly and sees Liam’s flushed face, mouth open in surprise, eyes flicking back and forth from Louis to Zayn. He’s rock hard right behind Louis’ arse, waiting for it.

“Don't stop movin’ your fingers, Liam,” Zayn instructs.

Liam's fingers begin to thrust wetly in and it of him again, alongside Zayn’s. Louis makes a soft noise. He's so relaxed from the poppers that he barely feels the pain of stretching, just the intense repeated stimulation of his prostate. His stomach is tied up in knots of hot, sharp arousal. He keeps forgetting to breathe.

“Are you gonna be a good slut for us?” Zayn murmurs in his ear, as his fingers work harder. “You our loud, filthy slut?”

Louis wasn't expecting that, but he loves it, revels in it, craves it. “Yeah,” he whines, pressing his hands to Liam's stomach, bracing himself and leaning forward as their fingering picks up speed. Liam grips his wrist with his free hand, his entire palm closing easily around Louis’ small wrist, steadying him and grounding him.

Zayn slaps his arse. Louis sucks in a gasp. He wasn't expecting that either, and it stings beautifully.

“Fuck,” Louis says, choking on his own spit a bit. “Fuck, more.”

“No, bossy,” Zayn says softly to him, “you don't tell us what to do, alright? We’ll take it from here. You haven't got to do anythin’ but get fucked, love.”

Louis whines, unable to articulate words, his thighs tightening around Liam's waist. Under him, Liam's face is red, and he grips Louis harder.

“Zayn, slow down, I'm getting too hard,” he groans.

“You'll stay hard, mate, that's what the pill’s for.”

Zayn pushes more fingers into him, for a grand total of five. Louis can feel the muscles inside him clutching and releasing with the movement of their hands.

Liam slides a sixth finger in and Louis lets out a choked gasp.

“‘S too much,” he says, though it isn't, he's stretching just fine and feels incredible, but it's hard for him to process mentally.

Zayn slows down somewhat, and rubs Louis’ back. Liam removes the finger instantly and shushes him reassuringly, then motions for Louis to lean down and kiss him. They do. Liam is tender and loving with him, stroking his hair and nuzzling their foreheads together.

“D’you think you can do this?” Liam murmurs.

“Yeah,” Louis says near-hysterically. He's hot all over from how bad he wants it, practically feverish. “I do, I do. Yeah.”

“It's a lot, Louis,” Zayn says in a low voice. “We're gonna take our time, mate.”

Louis sits back up, the cleft of his arse brushing against Liam's hard cock and Zayn’s dick brushing the small of his back. He remembers exactly why he wanted this: both of his boys sliding in him at once, their hands on him, their cocks inside of him, kissing him and whispering to him and giving him all their attention. He feels a pleasant spasm down his spine at the thought.

“Touch me,” he begs, of no one in particular.

Zayn and Liam know each other so well that what happens next feels as if it's done by one body, not two. They both gently slide their fingers out of him. Louis lets out a ragged little noise at the sudden empty feeling, and squeezes Liam's thigh; Liam gazes at him from under his lashes and makes a reassuring sound as Zayn guides Liam’s cock into Louis with skilled, slender fingers. Louis moans, high and sharp.

“You're so big,” he whines, and he hears Liam’s breath hitch tightly in his throat.

Louis begins to ride Liam cowgirl, which he's done so many times now and has always been good at. He and Liam pet at each other lovingly, stroking each other's arms and gazing at each other as Liam rocks inside him.

“Shit,” Zayn whispers. Louis leans back and against Zayn's slim, gorgeous body as he straddles Liam's thighs, right behind Louis’ arse. Zayn is warm, beginning to sweat despite the cool room. The musky scent of Zayn and the hard press of his body is driving Louis barmy. He wants him, too.

“Zayn,” he begs.

“D’you know how hot this is from this angle?” Zayn whispers in his ear. Liam stops breathing as he listens to Zayn; the thrusts of his hips slows like he's hanging on every word. “Watchin’ you get pounded from back here?”

Louis moans again, helplessly.

“Go ahead, Zayn,” Liam tells him, his voice rough with arousal. “Whenever you're ready. He's loosened up.”

“Is ‘e,” Zayn says to Louis, his full lips brushing Louis’ ear. Louis’ back arches against Zayn's abdomen and he reaches behind himself and presses a hand to Zayn’s throat and jaw, murmuring nothings to him, begging him for deliverance. The needy ache inside of him is like a pit that must be filled. “Is our good boy ready? Is he a slag for us?”

“I am,” Louis breathes, “I can take you, I can take anything --”

“It's not just _can_ , is it?”

“No, I need you,” Louis moans, desperate, gagging for it. He becomes dimly aware that Liam is gazing at them with a bright red face and an open mouth. He's rock hard inside of Louis. “Need you both.”

Zayn grabs a handful of his hair, and yanks it so hard Louis’ eyes begin to water as Zayn slides into him alongside Liam. Zayn starts fucking into him immediately, so that he's pushed forward with his hands on Liam's torso.

A few things happen as a result; Louis is stretched beyond his wildest imaginings and is gripped by a powerful loss of control, and simultaneously feels such an overwhelming pressure against his prostate that he goes slightly out of his mind with arousal and begins to say things he isn't quite aware of, like, “Yeah, Daddy, oh, _God_ yeah, fuck me, please, yeah, _fuck_ ,” which both Zayn and Liam respond to a bit frantically.

“Louis, hold on, I'll come,” Liam tells him urgently. “Stop -- stop making noises --”

But Louis is in another dimension of overpowering sensation, discomfort and pleasure and all he can do is whimper and writhe on their cocks. Zayn takes him by the waist and pulls him back slightly.

“Fuck,” Zayn says, sucking air through his teeth, “this is tight, innit?”

“You good?” Liam says, and Louis dimly registers Liam's hands go around his own waist to reach Zayn's thighs behind him.

Zayn snorts another popper. “Let's slow down a mo,” he says, his voice very low and gravelly. “So neither of us blows in the first few seconds here.”

Louis protests this by rocking forward, getting Liam’s cock deeper in him.

“Ohh, love,” Liam says breathlessly, his hands pressed to the dip of Louis’ waist. Louis gazes at him warmly.

“Sorry,” Louis says, with a bit of a chuckle.

He leans in close, sliding Zayn out of him partially, and kisses up Liam's stubbly cheek, then strokes his hair. Liam kisses him on the head and neck, everywhere he can reach him. He clutches at him carefully and protectively. They lie there and breathe in and out with each other's tempo, their breaths coming in shaky, and out hard, like racehorses.

“I love you in me,” Louis murmurs hoarsely to him. He feels so safe in Liam's arms.

“I love --” Liam trails off, then kisses his temple and nose. “Love being in you --”

Louis reaches back under himself, to the base of Liam and Zayn's cocks, and draws his finger up to where they disappear inside his body. His heart pounds in his chest, and his cock throbs.

“Poppers are good,” Zayn murmurs. “Sort of ‘d like somebody to finger me now.”

“We'll get you later,” Liam promises with a smile.

“You're both in me,” Louis chokes out, dazed. “Holy shit.”

Zayn kisses him all over the back of his neck and his shoulders, stroking his hair and settling his hands at the dip of Louis’ waist. He reaches down and squeezes Louis’ arse cheek. “Feels great.”

Liam nods, his boyishly handsome face pink against the white sheets, his eyes intensely dark. “Feels incredible,” he murmurs, sliding his hands over his thighs to reach behind Louis and grab Zayn's arse, pushing Zayn in deeper as a result. The overstimulated Louis lets out a choked cry and leans forward. He's having a difficult time processing this. It's almost too much good at once; his nerves are raw and flayed, and every movement of their cocks inside him feels impossibly uncomfortable but utterly wonderful at the same time.

He takes another snort off a popper. “When you get goin’, I'm gonna moan,” he warns them. “A lot.”

“S’okay,” Zayn murmurs, nuzzling him. He leans back against Zayn, allowing him to kiss his throat and cheek. Zayn sucks and bites at his neck. Louis doesn't even care that he'll end up with a hickey.

“You look so good like this,” Liam adds softly, his voice rich with arousal. “So, so good, Louis, fuck.”

“Doesn't he?” Zayn says, hands wrapped around Louis and pressed to his ribs.

Louis feels warm and lulled by the flattery and all of the akyl nitrite up his nose. He rolls his hips on their cocks and they both make appreciative groaning noises, clutching at him.

“Go on then, boys,” he purrs.

Liam begins to move his hips again. Louis’ body moves with him, warm and buzzy from wine, sedated by the steady pleasant throbs of his prostate. Louis’ breath hitches as Liam gets going a little harder and Zayn slides out of him slightly. Zayn makes up for this by beginning to thrust as well, and he pushes Louis down against Liam and starts fucking him hard for the first time.

Louis’ brain is white noise. He moans and moans, without any conscious thought put toward it whatsoever. He's no longer Louis Tomlinson, and all of the baggage and stress that implies. He's just a bloke on a bed somewhere with two of his best mates fucking the shit out of him.

Distantly, he realizes that he's gripping the sheets as they fuck him, their cocks sliding against each other as Zayn goes in and out and Liam stays firmly in, keeping him open, being his constant and his steady. Liam's hands are at the back of his neck, he realizes, and he leans forward slightly more so Liam can kiss him. All he can feel is the soft, dry brush of Liam's mouth, then his warm wet tongue, and the two cocks fucking him open. Everything else is fog to his senses.

Louis is still moaning as Zayn thrusts, just out of instinct. There is pain to what's happening, a distant and dim one that’ll haunt him later. He gasps and whines and grabs at Liam, who murmurs sweet things to him as Louis is bounced on his cock by Zayn.

Liam groans in a certain way that Louis recognizes; he tries to slow down in his bouncing but he’s so far gone that it’s hard to get his body to comply. It’s too late anyway, though. Liam comes, muttering “ _shit, shit_ ” and sighing.

Louis leans in and kisses him, stroking his face. They gaze at each other. Zayn is still fucking him, his cock sliding wetly in and out of Louis alongside Liam’s limp one.

“I’ll get it back up,” Liam murmurs to him, nuzzling his jaw.

“Hurry,” Louis breathes. His voice sounds strange in his own ears, high and rough.

The three of them work in a perfect team as Louis slides off of Liam in one fluid motion and falls onto his back on the bed beside him to have Zayn climb needily back onto him and shove into him again, fucking him powerfully in missionary while Liam tries to get himself hard again.

Louis grips Zayn hard by the bicep, trying to get him to slow down; Zayn is like a man possessed. Louis can’t shake the feeling that Zayn is partially into this as retribution for everything Louis put him through for leaving the band, which he’s loathe to admit he finds extremely hot. He wonders if he could drag the dirty talk in that direction; he likes being told he’s a good boy, but he likes being told he’s a bad boy just as much.

“Fuck,” Liam whines petulantly, watching them. “You both look so good right now.”

Louis’ head lolls over and he grins at Liam, gazing into his dark eyes as Zayn grunts softly from the effort of fucking him up and down on the bed. “Shouldn't’ve come so fast, then!”

“I couldn’t help it!” Liam bursts out. “This is on another level, alright? And you’re moaning, yelling -- who’s even _Daddy_ , anyway?”

“You,” Zayn pants. “I’m no kind of daddy.”

“Zaddy,” Louis says, laughing, a wee bit hysterical from how shot his nerves are. Zayn snorts. Louis watches him; his sculpted face dark red from exertion, his eyes shining, jaw clenched as he thrusts into Louis. His dark fringe flops against his forehead. His gorgeous hands are pressed hard to the bed on either side of Louis, silver rings on his wet fingers shining, tendons in his forearms straining. Louis realizes he himself is near to coming.

“Why’d you want to do this?” he murmurs to Zayn, hoping to tease something really hot out of him. “Had to practically beg Liam, but you were - _\- oh_ \-- you got on board right away --”

Zayn shrugs. “I like fuckin’ you,” he purrs, giving a particularly hard thrust. Louis moans and spreads his legs wider. “An’ I like Liam.”

“But you’re so into it,” Louis says, breath hitching. “And this dirty talk, callin’ me a slut and shit, we’ve never gone there before.”

Zayn lies down across him as he fucks him, kissing him and stroking his hair. “‘S just talk, mate.”

“Is it?” Louis breathes, staring at him.

Zayn stares back. “D’you -- _ahh_ \-- d’you not want it to be?”

“Tell me the shit you hate about me,” Louis says, his voice low. Zayn makes a soft noise. “Tell me how crazy I make you.”

“Hey,” Liam cuts in. “Boys --”

“Shut it,” Zayn says gently to Liam, while staring at Louis.

Liam falls obediently silent.

Zayn seems to be struggling for words, not only from the effort of fucking Louis as he speaks, but from a deeper conflict within him of whether or not to express things he’s bitten back for so long. Louis lies there, lips parted, waiting with eager desperation as he’s fucked and as he slides his hand over his own rock-hard and dripping cock.

“Say it, Zayn,” Louis urges, “say whatever you want --”

“I’ll talk,” Zayn says, and he puts a gentle hand to Louis’ throat -- not squeezing, not clutching, just held there, pressing down ever so slightly on the muscles in his neck -- “when I fuckin’ _want_ to talk --”

Hot stabs of arousal go all through Louis and he moans and spreads his legs wider. In his peripheral vision he sees Liam begin to stroke his own spent cock.

Zayn gets very close to Louis, his slim body covering Louis’ slim body, his tattooed arms encircling him as he thrusts. He gets his lips as close to possible as Louis’ ear and whispers, “You are such a pain in my fuckin’ arse sometimes. You know?”

Louis nods frantically, his sweaty fringe falling into his eyes. Zayn pushes it back for him, hard.

“You’re --” Zayn’s voice is very rough, like he’s about to come soon. “You’re so fuckin’ _much_ \-- you’ve always driven me crazy, walkin’ ‘round with that fuckin’ mouth on you, sayin’ whatever pops into your fuckin’ head -- walkin’ ‘round with that fuckin’ arse of yours, like it’s nothin’, like I don’t want to fuck you every minute I see you, like Liam don’t want the same thing, fuckin’ both of us, playin’ it off, playing us off each other, usin’ our cocks for dildos -- you little fuckin’ --”

“Yes,” Louis moans, stroking himself with abandon, “yeah, there it is --”

Zayn’s thrusts should be slowing, he should be exhausted by now, but he keeps at it, kissing Louis as he does.

“Say what you really want to say,” Louis demands, gazing into his dark, catlike eyes. He digs his nails into Zayn's back. He’s so, so close, he can feel himself teetering on the edge of orgasm. “Call me what you were about to call me.”

Zayn stares at him, and then he cottons on and shakes his head hard.

“If you can say it on Twitter, you can say it from inside me, you cunt,” Louis snaps at him, taunting him, suddenly feeling larger than life with repressed anger.

Zayn freezes, very briefly, then begins to fuck him harder, yanks on his hair and hisses in his ear, “Fucking _bitch_ \--”

Louis cries out as he comes. It splatters on Zayn’s stomach and his own, and he lets his head fall back and his eyes close as Zayn keeps fucking him. Suddenly, Zayn withdraws, leaving a horrendous empty and gaping feeling inside of Louis. He’s exhausted, and it takes him a moment to open his eyes and observe what’s happened.

Zayn has moved away from him and is cuddled up with Liam, stroking his cock and laying across his chest. Liam looks a bit conflicted.

“Hey,” Louis snaps, stinging from this apparent rejection.

They both glance over at him.

“Sorry,” Zayn says genuinely, “it’s just I was really about to come all the sudden, and I don’t want to yet...”

Liam reaches an arm out to Louis and strokes his hair. Louis moves closer, and lube and Liam’s come leak out of him and down his thigh. Liam pulls him in and wraps an arm around him, petting him.

“No more of that,” Liam says firmly to both of them. “Whatever just happened here. I didn’t like it.”

Zayn and Louis glance at each other. Louis laughs.

“Just exorcisin’ some demons,” he murmurs. “S’okay, Payno.”

Zayn smiles, white teeth flashing, and nods. He leans over Liam to kiss Louis deeply on the mouth, cupping Louis’ jaw. Louis strokes Zayn’s soft hair.

“You’re my boy, always,” Zayn says softly to him.

Louis bites Zayn’s lip. “You’re mine.”

He settles back against Liam, nestled in the crook of his shoulder. Liam kisses him on the head. They watch as Zayn strokes Liam’s cock, which is beginning to respond to the stimulation or possibly the Viagra.

Louis lies there, aroused by the pungent scent of semen in the air. He rubs absentmindedly at his spent cock, getting the last few stabs of pleasure out of it that he can.

“Does it hurt, Zayn?” he breathes, shifting on the bed. “How hard you are?”

Zayn shrugs slightly and glances up. His pupils are big and round. “Yeah, sorta,” he murmurs. “Really want to come...”

Zayn’s lovely cock is dark and completely erect between his legs. Louis can’t stop staring at it; he’s practically drooling for it to be back inside him.

“Stop touchin’ Liam, then,” Louis instructs, sitting up to take his place. He feels a sharp twinge of aching pain between his legs, and ignores it.

Reluctantly, Zayn drops his hands from Liam’s cock and moves off of him, off to the side. Liam reaches a hand out to him and trails it over his thigh, like he wants him to stay close.

Louis takes Zayn’s place straddling Liam’s thighs, and begins to work his hands on Liam’s slick, thick cock, teasing the slit on the head with one slim finger and working his balls with the other hand.

“Ohh,” Liam groans, his eyes rolling back. He arches his back against the bed, his thighs shifting against Louis’. “Oh, God, Tommo.”

“Want to be back in me?” Louis says, sing-songy. “Wanna both fuck me raw, both your cocks in me, ‘til I can’t take it anymore?

He slides his hand faster up and down Liam’s shaft, feeling it stiffening under his hand.

“Wanna make me scream? Wanna hear me beg?”

Liam grips Louis’ thighs, nodding hard, his face red and his eyes dark. “Please,” he chokes out. “God, please.”

Zayn lies beside them with a desperate and frustrated look on his face, biting down hard on his full, pink bottom lip. He’s got his hands up on the bed, together at the wrists, like he’s offering himself to be handcuffed. His cock is leaking precome.

Louis watches him intently, feeling arousal deep in himself. He wants Zayn inside him again, but he’s enjoying torturing him, as well.

“Aren’t you sore, Louis?” Zayn murmurs. “Don’t you hurt, too?”

Liam glances between them.

“A bit,” Louis admits, feeling arrogant and pleased with himself. “Feels good, though.”

Liam exhales hard and reaches his arms out, sliding his hands over Louis’ hips and behind him to grope at his arse cheeks. Louis sighs with pleasure, continuing to stroke Liam.

“Know what we should do?” Zayn says to Liam, looking at him.

“Yeah?” Liam says, his voice different.

“Give ‘im hickies,” Zayn says, like Louis isn’t there. “All over. Just fuckin’ wreck ‘im.”

Liam sucks in a hiccupy breath. “D’you want that?” he says to Louis.

Zayn scoffs. “‘Course he does.”

“Yeah,” Louis murmurs, rolling his hips against Liam, getting hot in the face from the prospect of being visibly owned by the two of them while he’s walking around privately aching from being pounded by them the day before. “I do.”

Liam trails a gentle finger around Louis’ arsehole and then slides it inside him. Louis’ nerves are aflame from being fucked so thoroughly earlier, and he gasps softly at how intense the slide of a single finger feels. Liam looks up at him from under his eyelashes, and gives him a charming smile. Louis’ eyelids flutter. He’d be happy if Liam just rolled him over right then and there and fucked his brains out again, maybe holding both of Louis’ wrists together in one big hand like he’s done a few times before.

Liam is hard, again. Louis’ hands go up him in long, luxurious strokes. He stares into Liam’s eyes. Liam stares back, looking deeply desirous and apprehensive all at the same time.

Louis takes Liam’s hand and unfolds his middle and ring finger from where they’re curled in his palm, then pushes them inside himself, biting his lip as he does. Liam groans.

Louis fucks himself on Liam’s fingers for about half a minute, no longer, while Zayn and Liam watch him like a pair of hawks. He’s feeling a burn inside himself, but he’s so high off his arousal, the wine and the poppers, that it only makes him more desperate to be fucked. He wonders how bad he can hurt, how far he can stretch himself. He wonders if one of them could easily get a fist in him right now, and he shudders with the thought of it.

He sits forward, hands on either sides of Liam’s broad chest. Liam holds onto his forearms and watches him as he slides Liam’s cock easily back inside himself.

Louis moans breathily. The sensation is so intense, he’s so raw and sensitive inside. Liam begins to fuck into him gently. They rock up and down the bed together. Louis lies across him, craving the breadth of his chest and the protection of his arms.

Liam runs his hands through Louis’ hair, kissing him sloppily and eagerly.

“Tell me I’m a good boy,” Louis whispers to him, his voice hoarse.

“So good,” Liam murmurs, and they kiss with tongue, sucking on each other’s lips, shameless and making obscene noises.

Zayn makes a noise of frustration from beside them, lubes himself up again and swiftly climbs back up behind Louis. Louis grows tingly and warm all over from remembering how it felt to have them both in him.

“Go ahead,” he says hoarsely. He reaches over, uncaps a popper and snorts it. The bed is a minefield of discarded poppers, at this point.

Zayn reaches out for his hips, pulls him up and back and away from Liam. Louis complies, sitting up. Liam’s hands reach out and settle over top of Zayn’s at the dip of his waist. Louis loves how that feels.

“When you’re gonna come,” Louis murmurs, turning his head so he can see Zayn. Zayn interrupts him by kissing him, and bites his lip hard. Louis draws back so he can continue.

“When you’re gonna come,” Louis says, so close to Zayn’s mouth that they’re breathing each other’s air, “pull out and come on my back, so Liam can see.”

“Fuck,” Liam groans, thrusting into Louis harder.

Zayn nods and kisses Louis on the cheekbone, then grips his hips even harder as he slides his cock into Louis.

Louis makes a choked, dry sobbing sound that hurts on its way up his throat. He’s so oversensitive now that the addition of Zayn’s cock is like having the wind knocked out of him; he’s burning worse inside, but the stimulation of his prostate is incredible. He needs them to move against it more than he needs anything in the world; without thinking about it or even meaning to he begins to shift on their cocks, moaning in pain and in ecstasy, gyrating his hips.

“I’m gonna come on your arse instead,” Zayn murmurs to him, biting his ear. Louis moans louder at this, desperate, out of control, his fingernails digging hard into Liam’s waist. Liam and Zayn’s hands hold his hips in place, grounding him.

“Gonna come on that thick girly arse of yours,” Zayn growls, in between sucking hickeys on his neck and shoulders as he gets up a steady rhythm of thrusting into him. Liam follows Zayn’s lead, going slow at first. Louis is frantic, wanting them to just split him in half and be done with it.

“Fuck,” Louis cries out, grinding down on their cocks. “Fuck, _harder_ , fuck, fuck, _fuck_ \--”

Zayn spanks him a second time, then. Louis can barely even process the slap of his hand against his arse. He’s hard again, and he strokes himself mindlessly, his other hand pressed hard against the bed. All he cares about is getting a cock against that spot, that little specific spot in him, over and over and over again.

Louis leans forward to get a better angle, and Zayn starts really fucking him then, with Liam bouncing his hips up in a synchronous rhythm. This makes Liam's cock hit Louis in just the right spot, and he lets out a pitiful whining moan of ecstasy, going limp, his head hanging down. His eyes focus on nothing. He barely registers the sensation of the bed beneath his palms and Zayn's nails sinking into the flesh of his hips. The wonderful slide of them inside him and the impossible burning stretch of himself is overwhelming, crowding out all else.

Zayn gets in a particularly hard thrust and Louis chokes on his own spit. He isn't even moaning anymore, at least not loudly or specifically. He's groaning and whimpering, praying neither of them pause or change speed.

Louis tries to remember to breathe. It hitches jerkily in his throat as he's fucked.

“I can’t,” Zayn suddenly gasps, his fingernails digging harder into Louis. “I can’t, I’ve got to come.”

Louis means to tell him that he should, or that he can, but he just whimpers some more instead. He feels himself being pushed gently forward by Zayn, onto Liam, and then again the aching, gaping sense of loss as Zayn slides out of him. Louis shudders, cold sweat rising to the surface of his hot skin, and then Zayn and Liam’s hands go to him reassuringly. Liam pushes his hair back from his forehead and Zayn grips his thighs possessively.

The bed squeaks and Louis feels Zayn shifting behind him, and then Zayn lets out a small cry and there’s a hot splatter on Louis’ lower back and the top of his arse. Louis’ breath hitches, and Liam groans appreciatively, working his hips even harder.

Zayn falls onto the bed beside Liam, and Louis watches them, head-bobbing exhausted but continuing to be bounced on Liam. Liam’s hand goes to the back of Zayn’s neck and he whispers something to him that Louis can barely hear, something that sounds like _good boy_ or _good job._

Zayn looks utterly spent. He lies there, gazing at Louis with half-lidded dark eyes, rubbing at his beard. Louis continues to grind down on Liam, despite feeling impossibly raw inside. He needs to finish this out, he's doggedly single-minded.

Liam pulls Louis close to him again, so they’re stomach to stomach, and then rolls them over so he’s fucking Louis in missionary. Louis is grateful for this down in his bones; he’s so spent it was taking all of his core strength just to stay upright on Liam’s cock.

He lies there, staring up into Liam’s eyes, utterly sedated. Liam gazes back at him, kissing him on the mouth and all over his face, holding him by the neck as he sucks hickies onto his throat and thrusts into him. He’s slowing down.

Louis moans, unsure of how much more of this he can handle. His hands slide over Liam’s broad back, scratching him with his nails and then just stroking him, feeling his muscles work as he fucks Louis. Louis’ back is wet and sticky against the bed. He’s never been this stimulated on the inside; there’s pressure building in him again, and he’s hard and leaking precome despite barely wanting to be.

“Come _now_ , Payno,” he urges Liam weakly, and Liam obediently begins to thrust in long, slow strokes until he’s gasping against Louis’ throat, open-mouthed, teeth grazing the sensitive, saliva-wet skin where a few moments ago he was sucking a mark onto him. The movement of his hips slows and then stops. They all lie there, breathing heavily, stunned with what they've done.

Liam doesn't pull out of Louis right away, nor does Louis want him to. All Louis wants is to be held.

His boys do right by him, in that. They immediately encircle him in their arms, murmuring to him, telling him how amazing and incredible he is, kissing him all over. Zayn's slim arm snakes between him and Liam and holds him by the hip, clutching him tight, and he strokes Louis’ hair and kisses all over his jaw.

Liam slides out of him, then, and Louis whimpers pitifully. Away from the animal act of sex, he's beginning to realize how emotionally taxed he is, and that there's a burgeoning ache inside of him.

Zayn leans down to kiss and suck at his hips and stomach and then begins to suck him off. Zayn takes him deep almost immediately, like he’s got no gag reflex for the moment, eagerly slobbering and gagging himself on Louis’ cock. Louis comes embarrassingly quickly, and a lot, his lower back convulsing and his arms going utterly limp.

Zayn wipes Louis’ come off of his chin and extends his hand to Liam, grinning wickedly. Liam gives him an up-and-down glance and then takes Zayn by the wrist, drags his hand to his mouth and licks Louis’ semen delicately off of his fingers. Louis watches this, the last echoes of his orgasm thudding pleasantly in his pelvis.

“Degenerates,” Liam mutters with a smile, shaking his head. “Little sex monkeys.”

“Look how much he blew,” Zayn says proudly. “Damn. We did you good, didn't we?”

Louis nods limply.

Zayn laughs. They both lean in and encircle him again, cuddling him between each other, stroking him and petting him.

After a while of this, Louis is near to falling asleep, but the skin on his back and arse is itchy-tight from dried come. He sits up, detangling himself from them. Zayn and Liam both reach out in protest, mumbling for him to come back.

“I've just got to shower fast,” he says, staggering into the bathroom.

Possibly the most satisfying moment for Louis -- just as satisfying as either of his orgasms -- is seeing himself in the mirror after what they've done to him. He has never been more clearly and profoundly fucked in his entire life. His hair is sticky with come, and standing on end in places. He's pink all over with exertion and already wrecked with tens of hickies in a constellation from the top of his throat down to the top of his thighs. A deep, thumb-sized bruise is blooming on his hip. He's got nail marks all over him,  deep in his thighs and even up his back, on his forearms as well. Since he stood up, a dribble of come has been making its way from his arse down his thigh.

The tattoo on his arse is obscured by a thin sheen of Zayn’s ejaculate. He looks like he's been passed around in an alley, or something.

Louis grins at himself in the mirror.

“Fuckin’ sick,” he says hoarsely, and then gets in the shower.

The come on his back washes off easily. He fingers himself a bit to encourage the release of the three rounds of semen and lube that's inside of him. His touch stings and he winces, gripping the wall of the bath. He wishes one of them was in here with him, doing this for him, kissing him, but he thinks that might be a bit too intimate. They need to retain some sort of boundaries when they hook up like this.

Louis can't remember the last time he felt this needy and flayed. He's fumbling around with his mind all jumbled with static, his hands not responding very fast to his brain’s requests, craving a cigarette and some pot like nobody's business.

When he's moderately satisfied with his cleanup job he returns to the room to find Zayn and Liam lazily making out, looking quite fucked themselves, lying in the wet spot without a care in the world and Liam's fingers trailing over Zayn’s arsehole as they messily kiss.

Louis’ initial instinct is to feel left out, but he says, “Ay, lads,” and they both turn and look up at him with such enchanted and fond smiles that it would be insane of him to remain insecure.

“C'mere,” Liam says hoarsely, beckoning him. Louis holds up a finger as he goes to rummage in his trousers for cigs, then lights one and begins puffing away eagerly. The nicotine hit is immediate and wonderful; he can feel his exhausted and battered muscles easing and relaxing.

He knows he's too banged up inside to sit comfortably, so he lies back down on the bed, propped up by pillows, watching Zayn and Liam suck face like teenagers.

Liam's fingers get a bit more aggressive and Zayn moans into his mouth, his gorgeous body stretched in a mating posture over Liam, back arched and arse up. His hair is just as much a mess as Louis’ is. Louis loves what they've been able to tease out of Zayn today; he loves Zayn like this, all ripped open and out of control, filthy-mouthed and vulnerable. He relishes in it every time he can lead Zayn down that path along with him.

As if he can read his mind, Zayn breaks away from Liam’s lips and glances up at him, all thick dark lashes and red mouth.

“You're gonna feel us tomorrow,” Zayn says breathily. “All day. Deep up in ya. Won't be able to walk a step without feeling our cocks in ya.”

Louis takes another drag off his cigarette, a pleasant tingling growing in his stomach. “So are you lot just gonna fuck the rest of the afternoon away?” he says casually.

“It's this Viagra,” Liam complains, running his hand through Zayn's hair. “I feel like a machine gun.”

He pushes a finger into Zayn and Zayn moans, in a broken and exhausted way.

“I'm goin’ into hibernation after this,” Zayn mutters, biting at Liam's lip. Liam sighs happily, squeezing Zayn’s slim waist with his hands. He glances over at Louis, his eyes searching, roving over Louis hungrily and lovingly. Louis revels in this.

“Doesn't he look great right now?” Liam says to Zayn.

Zayn glances up at him too, his lips tilting up, wolfish. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

Louis puts out his cigarette on the bedside table and lights another, sliding lower on the bed, leaning his head back against the pillows, very pleased with himself. He feels quite decadent, sitting here in this posh London hotel, chainsmoking after taking two cocks at once. He fancies himself very Prince-like, in this moment.

“I bet they did this loads in the seventies,” Louis says, watching as Liam flips a moaning Zayn onto his back so he can finger him harder.

“Probably,” Liam pants, kissing Zayn’s collarbone and then his nipples. His chest hair is dark with sweat and his muscles are sharply defined from exertion.

“Payno, you're such a workhorse,” Louis says, blowing smoke at him. “When'll you ever let us do you? It's brilliant for getting out of your head.”

Zayn nods hard in agreement, sighing happily.

“I don't like it,” Liam insists, his face red with effort.

“You would if we did it.”

“Maybe someday,” he relents. Louis chalks this up as a victory.

 

/

 

Liam and Zayn have a smoke in the alley while Louis checks them out of the hotel.

“Wasn’t sure we’d really go through with it,” Zayn mutters, ashing his cigarette. There’s a palpable tension between them, now that they’re out of the bedroom and no longer skin to skin.

The words Zayn and Louis exchanged ring continually in Liam’s head. He doesn’t like them. The things they said were caustic and hard, and it brings Liam anxiety to recollect them. He thinks it’s strange that a few months ago he was convinced Louis had been too quick to forgive Zayn; now he worries they might never truly forgive each other, that there will always be hairline cracks in the mended china of their friendship.

He worries, too, that he and Zayn have gone too far with Louis now. Liam isn’t as jealous as he was before, but he fears the three of them are constantly on the edge of wrecking this nice, casual thing they’ve maintained for so long, on and off as the years dragged steadily on.

“I knew Louis would make it happen,” Liam says. “As soon as he brought it up. He gets that look, and you just know…”

“... it’s all over,” Zayn finishes.

They drive Zayn back to his, Louis leaning his elbow awkwardly on the seat next to him the entire time so he doesn’t have to sit fully on his arse. When Zayn hops out, he squeezes Liam on the thigh and winks at him, then tips Louis’ chin up to kiss him.

“Later, boys,” he calls as he strolls away.

“Bye,” Liam calls back, preoccupied, his leg bouncing.

Louis grins at him.

“Like clockwork, you are,” he says. “You start overthinking it, like --” he snaps his fingers.

“I’m not overthinking it,” Liam says defensively, even though he is.

Louis shakes his hand, laughing. “Alright,” he says, looking down at his phone.

“You sore?” Liam says, feeling a little wicked.

Louis glances up in surprise. A more lascivious smile curves his lips.

“Very,” he says, throatily.

“Come here,” Liam instructs him.

Louis obediently moves to his side of the seats, straddling Liam’s lap awkwardly, making a soft noise when his arse meets Liam’s thigh. The noise is deeply gratifying to Liam, who groans a bit and grips Louis’ waist, thumb sinking into his soft flesh, fingers pressed to the warmth of his back through his tee.

“Did we hurt you?” Liam murmurs, his mouth inches from Louis’.

Louis leans in and kisses him hard, biting his lip.

“No,” he assures him.

**Author's Note:**

> ive been wanting to write zilo dp for literally like 3 years so here it is, happy 4th of july


End file.
